


Wings Made Of Wax

by RedKissKate



Series: Blue-Eyed World [3]
Category: due South
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2011-07-28
Updated: 2011-07-28
Packaged: 2017-10-21 21:40:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 16,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/230125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedKissKate/pseuds/RedKissKate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ray K and Fraser navigate through the pitfalls of their first date.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Promising Start

Despite the fact that it's dinner time, Chinatown is jam packed. Tourist are snapping pictures of everything in sight, rubbing elbows with locals who just want to do their shopping in peace, and right in the middle of it all is Ray, trying to swim upstream. He could have parked closer to the restaurant, but he had wanted to walk, had needed the exercise to calm himself down before meeting up with the maybe crazy, definitely hot Mountie guy. That was the idea, but right now he's getting nowhere fast. Ray's afraid that if the family from Bumfuck Michigan taking up the entire sidewalk in front of him doesn't get out of his way soon he's going to have to start kicking in heads.

The whole problem is that he's pissed at himself for not being able to stay away and pissed at Ben Fraser for not being just some ordinary joe in a big red suit. Ordinary he can handle. Ordinary looking, ordinary acting, a nice, ordinary meal with some everyday guy. This thing with Mr. All Canadian isn't ordinary at all and Ray's damaged but he's not dumb. He knows where feelings like this can end. He's already been all the shades of brokenhearted and he remembers real well what it's like to have love go wrong. Been there, done that, got the t -shirt, the novelty mug and the commemorative plaque, thanks.

So, great. His memory's working just fine and he knows the one thing he wants in life is not to feel that low ever again. None of that explains why right now he's trying to find his way through a crowd of rubber-neckers in order to meet up with the only guy on the planet who can make being trapped in a burning building seem sexy.

Warning! Warning, Will Robinson! This is your brain telling you not to be stupid.

Ray can't hold back a bark of laughter at that last thought, because stupid is pretty much all he knows and thank you God, the sight of a strange man laughing to himself causes the fat guy right beside him to edge away, giving a Ray a clear view of a much less crowded side street. He checks the signs and hey, his luck is holding because it's the same street that the restaurant is on. Finally he can get some speed on and maybe shake his yayas out.

He half runs, half walks three blocks and he's feeling a lot less jittery when he sees the Lee's Wok sign, all lit up red and gold while the rest of the neighborhood grows dark. Since he has to cross on a yellow light, he doesn't bother to slow down and he's so focused on his goal, he doesn't notice the taxi idling by the curb until the door opens and he crashes into the guy leaving the cab.

Wham! He hits smooth leather and ricochets off, losing his footing and going down. The impact sets off the every bruise he's got and he lands splat on the sidewalk. He ignores the pain as best he can and as soon as he gets his legs untangled, he's up again and trying to stay there. Meanwhile the innocent bystander Ray's just tried to cripple flails about before grabbing at the taxi to keep himself steady. Ray's already got his mouth open to apologize when his brain starts to working and he recognizes the face that's staring back at him.

Benton Fraser looks just as freaked out as Ray feels and for a moment the adrenalin going through his body screams at Ray to take off and keep running. Maybe by the time he reaches Iowa he'll have thought of a way to deal with the embarrassment of coming across as a complete spaz.

Then his sense of humor catches up with the rest of him and he realizes that this is the third time he's landed on his ass since he's met the guy. It's stupid, but it's also funny and he's just got to ask,

"Is this some kind of thing with you? You've got to bowl me over every time we meet?"

There's a weird pause where there's nada from the guy, no smile, no frown, no acknowledgment whatsoever, just a thousand yard stare that does it's best to bore it's way to the back of Ray's skull. Ray's right on the verge of feeling like a complete idiot when finally something clicks and Ben unfreezes, letting go of the death grip he has on the taxi. He keeps right on unfreezing until his posture has loosened up into something a hell of a lot more approachable and for the first time ever, he seems comfortable in his own skin.

Ben takes a step away from the cab just so he can lean back on it and crosses his arms. He regards Ray from a face gone polite and bland, but his eyes reflect Ray's smirk right back at him.

"Actually Ray, if you think back on our first meeting, you'll recall that our collision was clearly your doing and just now evidence would suggest that you are the guilty party. If anyone has a right to complain about being bowled over, I'm afraid that would have to be me."

And it looks like Ray's memory hasn't been working so great after all. Sure he remembered the fact that the guy's good looking and that love can hurt like a son of a bitch, but there were things about last night that he had completely forgotten. Like the fact that Ben has no trouble being on the same page as Ray, no matter how off the wall Ray seems to himself.

"Oh yeah? Then what about the wolf, wise guy? How is his knocking me down in any way my fault?"

"I'm afraid Diefenbaker is his own animal. If you have a complaint about his behavior you'll have to take it up with him."

"Wait, are you saying you can't be responsible for your own wolf?"

Ben fights to keep his face poker straight, but it's a losing battle and the smile that breaks through all that careful politeness almost causes Ray fall right back onto the pavement.

"Well, he is a wild creature and as such, he occasionally has unbearable urges that he can't control."

"So wolves in the wild have an urge to knock a guy down and lick his ear?"

"If you look at that action as a way of establishing dominance then yes, wolves in the wild have the urge to knock a man down."

"Dominance, huh? How exactly does that work?"

Ray's starting to lose track of the conversation because what they're saying doesn't really matter. What matters is the underneath the noise, he and Ben are beginning to communicate in all sorts of interesting ways. Like the way he can't seem to stop drifting into Ben's personal space and the way Ben's mouth seems to be softening and staying open just the tiniest little bit.

"Well, you see..."

Ben's words trail off which works for Ray since he's pretty sure he's beyond words himself.

The electricity between them sparks up like a house on fire and Ray can't worry about how this is all going to end anymore. That's it, he's down for the count. It doesn't matter that this thing with the Mountie might leave him feeling like his insides have been carved out with a rusty spoon, because the connection they've got going on is practically sizzling in the air.

Ray finds himself right in front of Ben and watches as he uncrosses his arms. It's just like the night before and Ray's back to thinking that if he doesn't kiss this guy it'll be worse than dying. This time though, Ben's not just standing there trying to look like a wooden soldier. Instead he's looks like he's got a few unbearable urges of his own and Ray's real interested in seeing what they could be. Ben bites his lip and that's just it. Canadian or not, Ben's some type of law enforcement officer and he's got to know about justifiable provocation.

Ray's beginning to lean into what might be the hottest kiss of his entire life, when the asshole driving the cab gets impatient and starts laying on the horn.

Ben surges off the cab but since Ray was in the process of getting friendly, the only thing that gets him is hopelessly tangled up with a skinny Polish guy. He starts blushing and Ray can feel his own face glow brighter than Rudolph's nose, which is more humiliation than Ray really needs in this particular situation.

All that blood rushing down, up and down again short-circuits something in his brain because when Ben ties to separate them, Ray can't get his arms or legs to work. He tells his hands to let go of Ben's shirt and his feet to take a step back, but no way, Jose. As far as Ray's body is concerned, it's got a good thing going and there's no reason to call it quits.

Ben's flustered enough that he doesn't seem to notice Ray's sudden transformation into a storefront dummy, so Ray leans against the guy's shoulder and waits as Ben tries to find a way to pry them apart.

"Ah. Hmm. Excuse me."

Ben finally works his arms free and his hands rise up to grab Ray's shoulders. Ray is gently but firmly moved away and to the left, where he stands, blinking, as Ben talks to the driver. Ben seems to be making nice, but Ray can't tell for sure because whatever's being said is being drowned out by the incredibly loud beat of his own heart.

Thumpity, thumpity, thump

Greatness, he's been struck deaf by lust and his worry about looking like a spaz? Oh yeah, exceeded beyond his wildest dreams.

Ben says one last "my sincerest apologies" or whatever to the driver, and just to add one more bit of craziness to Ray's threatening state of total meltdown, the driver hands out a brown Stetson before swerving into oncoming traffic without a look or a turn signal. Christ, he's not gone delusional as well as deaf has he? But no, Ben accepts it as if it's entirely normal to have cabbies give you headgear and puts it on, straitening the brim until it's a perfect line right above his eyes.

He turns to Ray and somehow he's found his composure again. Ben's face isn't even red anymore, like the hat has some sort of embarrassment deflection device hooked up to it that gives a guy back his cool whenever he wears it and boy, could Ray use one of those hats right about now. Of course, going by his luck, that was the only magical hat giving cabbie in the entire world and now that he's gone the only thing Ray can do is stand there and look like a loon.

Ben smiles a professional, these-last-five-minutes-haven't-touched-me-at-all kind of smile that immediately rubs Ray the wrong way and makes a little gesture toward the restaurant.

"Shall we?"

And no, they shall not, because Ray's feeling confused six ways to Sunday and it's beginning to piss him off that apparently he's the only asshole in this scenario that's having trouble adjusting.

He's about to work up a good head of steam, when Ben stops him cold.

All of the sudden, out of the blue, red and every other color in the rainbow, Ben steps close and curves his hand around Ray's left bicep. Even through the layers of his coat and shirt, Ray can tell that Ben's fingers match up perfectly with the bruises they left the night before. The weight on his arm is too much like what he had imagined just eight hours ago in front of his bathroom mirror and it shuts Ray up before he even has a chance to open his mouth. Ben tightens his grip briefly before letting go and maybe Ben isn't so unaffected after all, because when he speaks again, his voice is strained and rough.

"Please."

The hat that Ray is really beginning to hate shadows Ben's face so the only thing he has to go on is that one word and aftershocks of feeling Ben's hand on his arm, but it's enough. There's no way he can refuse and his throat is desert dry so he can't say yes either. He contents himself with a nod and starts for the restaurant, not looking anywhere but straight ahead as Ben falls in step right beside him.

They go down the walk, up the stairs and through the door and as soon as they step inside they're met by a smiling oriental man who looks as pleased as punch to see Ben. He shouts out something jangled and eager sounding and about ten different people from all over the place descend on them in three seconds flat. They surround Ben and start chatting away, welcoming him like he's the prodigal son and they've just got in a shipment of fatted calf. Ben answers back in what sounds like Chinese and it's way too much weirdness for Ray to handle. He catches Ben's eye and tries to mime that he needs to step away for a moment. Ben frowns like he knows that the smart thing for Ray to do right now is to make tracks before the night gets any freakier, but he nods and Ray skirts the edge of the crowd, trying to get away from the buzz, buzz, buzz of happy voices that's threatening to drill a hole right into his brain.

Down a dimly lit hallway in the back, he spots a door marked Men's and in a flash he's through it. For once things go his way and he finds himself alone in a poky little restroom with two stalls and one sink. It's not much to look at, but it's enough to give him a chance to get his head together so he's not complaining.

Ray runs the tap and splashes cold water on his face and finally his rabbiting heartbeat starts to slow down. The way things are going, it'll be a miracle if he survives the meal without stroking out.

Well, stroking out or maybe just having his head going boom from the roller coaster ride his heart is on. First and second thoughts about this whole night are tangled up in his gut, causing him wish they could just skip this whole dinner thing, but the idea of what they could be doing instead of eating makes last night's brush with incineration look like a cake walk.

No, he's still the man with a plan and that plan is that he'll sit down to share a meal with the guy, say thanks for not letting me become fish food and that's it. So long, farewell, and sayonara. He's out of there and twenty miles down the road before the Mountie can straighten his hat.

Ray punches the air a few times to psych himself up. Ok, he can do this. He takes a deep a breath and throws open the door, determined to find Ben and get this whole thing over with before his freaky luck makes it start raining lizards or something and he finds himself stuck in a permanent lip lock with a Canadian.

 

* * *

Mrs. Lee peers owlishly down at Benton, pen in hand, and asks one more time if he would like to sample a batch of fresh _Lobak Goh_. He has already agreed to sampling the _Char Siu Bao_ and the _Fun Gor_ and his refusal of the _Lobak Goh_ does not deterred Mrs. Lee in the slightest. Instead she uses the opportunity to launch into a detailed comparison between the taste of the traditional _Char Siu_ from her childhood and that of her daughter-in-law's recipe.

It's obvious that she is reluctant to leave him alone at the table, facing an empty chair and Benton is aware that he should be grateful for her kindness. However it takes all of his concentration to firmly tap down on the wild impatience that hammers at his heart and he finds himself on the verge of demanding that he be left in peace.

Mercifully, after their effusive greeting the rest of the Lee family had not lingered, scattering back to their posts as quickly as they had gathered, leaving only Mrs. Lee behind to show him to his seat. Which she had, slowly guiding him through the restaurant while eagerly relaying her great grandchild's latest accomplishments. Benton had made an effort to respond politely to her news of Sau-Fu's first tooth but in truth the words had barely registered. It had taken the last of his remaining concentration to properly thank her for leading him to his table and now he is trapped, held suspended under a flow of words as he waits for Ray's return.

Ray, who has conversations like other people ski down ice fields, recklessly veering off onto unexpected paths at high speeds and risking freefall at every turn. Who can walk through Benton's every defense to reach the heart of him with just one word or gesture.

While on route in the cab, Benton had constructed several scenarios as to how their dinner might progress. Since he has observed that most Americans do not regard punctuality as an especially desirable trait, the scenario he had felt most likely had involved Ray arriving at least a few minutes past the agreed upon time. Ray would have rushed in to the lobby and found Benton calmly speaking with Mr. Lee, already having greeted the Lee family en masse. Benton would have complimented Ray on his appearance and possibly received a compliment in return. They would have proceeded to their table where Benton would have placed their orders in Cantonese. Ray, perhaps impressed by Benton's facility with languages, would confess that every moment of the day they had spent apart had seemed like years, each second passing with an agonizing slowness. Benton would have replied that it had been the same for him and the night would have then carried on in a most agreeable fashion.

Nowhere in this scenario had he expected to literally run into Ray on the street and almost commit a public indiscretion. Or for Ray then to warily eye him like a half wild creature, obviously on the verge of ending the night right there until Benton had taken a chance and expressed as best he could his own confusion and longing.

Now all his plans are overturned and he is left unmoored, unsure of anything but than the fact that for the first time in years he feels full of life and vigor and the potential of what almost happened on the street rings through him with a clear, sweet chime.

He shifts minutely in the chair and attempts to reign in his rolling emotions. A deep breath would be far too obvious so he focuses on steadily breathing in and out while Mrs. Lee continues to chatter on, her topic shifting from childhood memories to Mr. Lee's efforts to locate a domestic supply of fresh eel.

Finally Mrs. Lee pauses to take a breath and Benton seizes his chance. In desperation, he suggests that Mrs. Lee choose for herself the appetizers she believes he and his guest would enjoy. Pleased by idea, she happily takes up the challenge and to his great relief, bustles off intent on her mission

At last, left alone in blissful silence, Benton relaxes and attempts to marshal his thoughts into some type of order. It is an effort doomed for failure, since no sooner does Mrs. Lee leave than does Ray appear on the far side of the room, eyes scanning the tables in search of Benton.

For a moment he is poised in the entrance way, intent in his survey of the dinning area and unaware that he himself is being observed. Safe in the shadows of the secluded table he had requested Benton takes that moment and studies the man.

His first impression is always one of motion. Even while his attention is directed elsewhere, Ray does not simply stand still. Instead he shifts his weight from right to left and back again, obviously impatient. Clever fingers flick up to his hair not to smooth it down as Benton would expect but instead encourages it to new heights, leaving behind spikes as distinct as icicles. It's an odd wintry touch in one so well suited for the sun.

His second impression is of fair hair and long bones clearly delineated beneath the skin. A thin frame cobbled together with a strange sort of grace that grants elegance even to his battered jeans and shirt. A man, honed sharp as a knife, with lines on his face that betray the potential for violence and good humor, of anger and compassion, all of Ray made up of contradictions that could tear Benton apart, but the electricity running through his veins feels everything like excitement and nothing like fear.

He takes a third look, but this time Ray's eyes meet his and he quickly waves the man over, his chance for observation passed for now.

Ray walks toward him, not quite frowning but not smiling either and Benton feels his own welcoming smile fade into careful neutrality. Stomach tightening in sudden anxiety Benton says nothing as Ray slides into the table's other seat, not knowing how to start their conversation on the right foot. The rapport they had established outside has vanished and all of Benton's misgivings about the evening reappears with a vengeance. Has he offended Ray in some way? Has he betrayed his inexperience already?

"So where's the wolf anyway?"

Ray asks the question as if it were a challenge, his body tense and his hands held flat on the surface between them. Benton fights back the urge to cover those hands with his own and chooses to answer rather than to inquire about the man's change in mood.

"Ah, well to be sure he did want to come. Notwithstanding that fact that he is very fond of Mrs. Lee's cooking, he also wanted a chance to say hello to you. But I'm afraid Diefenbaker is a terrible dinner companion. He inevitably takes more than his share and he barely knows how to use chopsticks, so I thought it best to leave him behind."

It's a completely nonsensical reply of course, meant only to echo their earlier light hearted banter but Ray refuses to take his cue. The conversation flounders and Benton is left once more the tongue-tied child failing to entertain his guest while his grandmother looks on in quiet sympathy.

In the pause that follows, Ray's fingers trace the Chinese ideogram for "good fortune" carved deep into the wood of the table. The movement is slow and hypnotic, distracting Benton even as he struggles to leave the boy he was behind and find the words that could redeem his foolishness. So complete is his absorption that Ray's next question catches him entirely by surprise.

"And the fan club?"

At Benton's blank stare, Ray looks impatient and waves his hand at the dinning room at large.

"The party they threw for you as soon as you walked inside the door. What's the story there?"

Relieved as he is that Ray has broken the silence, Benton can't help but wonder if this is how he expects their dinner to proceed, with Ray asking question after question as if on watch for for some unknown weakness in Benton's replies.

"The story is that several years back, Mr. Lee's brother and nephew were the unfortunate victims of extortion by a local businessman. I helped as much as I could in resolving the case and as a consequence I seemed to have earned the gratitude of the entire extended Lee family. They own several restaurants here in Chinatown and I try to patronize them as much as possible."

Quickly before Ray can venture forth another inquiry, Benton continues on, taking control of the conversation. At this point he would rather risk rudeness than have their night stretch into one long interrogation with no real intimacy between them.

"I believe I spoke to a friend of yours today. Stella Palmer?"

"You know Stella?"

If Ray had seemed distant before, now he is back with a vengeance, eyes up and glaring while his hands drop from the table, no doubt being tightened into fists. It is not the reaction Benton was hoping for and yet it is a reaction. To his shame, Benton experiences satisfaction at disrupting the man's composure, for making him as vulnerable as Benton feels but he quickly disregards it, focusing his attention on Ray. There is an odd, hunched defensiveness about Ray that he does not understand.

"Not really, I'm afraid. She is attached to the 27th precinct but we rarely cross paths. However, today she made an effort to find my partner and I and thank us for doing our part in saving your life. She said that you were an old friend and that she didn't have many of them to spare."

"Stella said that? Old friend?"

"Yes."

As sudden as the storm had erupted it is over and Ray shifts his position, loosing his stiff shoulders and raising one arm to rest along the back of the booth. The fierce tension is gone as if it had never existed and Benton feels nothing but wonder at this new evidence of the man's unpredictable nature.

For so long he has lived in this city and while an urban existence has its rewards, there is a dreadful sameness to his days. Even his work with Ray Vecchio has a certain predictability, for men turn to crime for only a handful of reasons and most are betrayed in the act by their own thoughtless greed. Every moment he fights a losing battle against the dullness of routine and he longs for wide snow covered fields that could prove treacherous to the unwary, for the burning cold that signals a dangerous temperature drop, for the uncertainty of hearing a bear's roar and knowing that it is starved from it's long hibernation. He misses the land of his birth, and dreams at night that he has lost the shape himself in this easy life, now that the challenges of earth and air are gone. But at this moment, here with Ray, he sees a nature just as mysterious and changeable as the winter sky over Inatukyik and it seems marvelous thing, how he can glimpse his home in this man.

Some of what he feels must show on his face, for Ray's posture relaxes further and his lips curve up in an answering smile.

"Yeah, well, I've known Stella since we were both stuck in detention for mouthing off to our homeroom teacher. Don't get me wrong, she's a gold coast girl all the way, but when she was twelve she threw a fit about going to North River instead to some fancy boarding school. I think she was trying to piss off her dad, but he just said sure, go ahead and there she was, poor little rich girl trying to fit in with all of us kids from the other side of the tracks. The only way she could was by being a bigger pain in the ass to our teachers than we were."

Although Ray speaks of Stella Palmer, Benton attempts to picture a boy "from the other side of the track" and wonders how many hours he had spent in detention. The stern regimentation of a public school seemed a poor fit for someone as exuberant as Ray. Of course, it is not only the school that Ray seemed particularly unsuited for. Benton has not spent a large part of his time observing ADA Palmer, but he has seen enough to form a rather unfavorable impression. She is without a doubt highly intelligent and dedicated to her job, but she is openly ambitious in a way he does not trust and there is a cold sense of obligation in her work that leaves little room for compassion. He cannot see why she figures so highly in either Ray's estimation.

"So you befriended her out of sympathy?"

"Nah, we became friends because she stopped Billy Iforson from trying to make me eat a pound of dirt. She just came out of nowhere and started whaling on him, this skinny little thing who barely came up to Billy's shoulder. He threw her off and she started screaming that she was going to have her Daddy's driver come beat him up if he didn't leave me alone."

"Sounds like quite a threat."

"Oh you bet, the guy was like nine feet tall and could crush walnuts in one hand. The idea of Gigantor coming after him scared Billy all right. Scared him enough anyway that when I came off the ground and punched him in the stomach, he just backed off instead of taking the opportunity to knock out a few of my teeth."

Benton can almost see it, Ray coming off of the ground in a blur of thin arms and hot blue eyes, intent on inflicting his share of harm on his tormentor. He thinks of a bully whirling an otter over his head and despite himself, feels in perfect agreement with Ray.

Perfect agreement with the sentiment at least, although his sense of fair play inconveniently rears it's head. He knows that American men sometimes react badly to any hint of criticism of their action, especially if the action in question was violent, but a bookish childhood spent immersed in the study of subjects like chivalry has it's own compulsions and really, sometimes he simply cannot help himself.

"Well, I applaud the outcome, however last punch seems very unsportsmanlike."

Ray huffs in disagreement but to Benton's relief, only seems amused by the mild censure.

"Sports men don't have to deal with great apes like Billy pounding on them because they're a skinny four-eyed geek."

He shifts and leans forward, clearly finished with reminiscing about his school days with Stella and ready to move on to a new topic.

"So what's the deal with you anyway? You ever going to tell me what a Mountie is doing here, stuck on the wrong side of the border?"

It's another question, but this time Ray's voice is simply curious, lacking the hard edge that had made his earlier inquires resemble an interrogation so Benton begins the story of his father's murder and how the trail of his killer led Benton into Chicago but never out again. Countless repetitions to strangers has worn the story down to it's essentials, a dry recounting of facts that is meant to reassure both Benton and the listener with it's clinical detachment. He does not mention of how it felt to return from a routine patrol to discover that his father, that perennially disappointing and disapproving anchor to his world, had been turned into a case file waiting for him to solve or what it was like to search for the murderer only to find betrayal from one of his father's closest friends.

Ray, unlike others who have heard his recitation, does not drop his gaze in confusion or distress. He meets Benton's gaze warmly and reaches out to roughly pat Benton on the arm.

“Ben, that sucks.”

“Yes, it does.”

Ray removes his hand to gesture futility in the air and Benton immediately misses the contact.

“Sorry, that's all I've got. Life sucks and for you it sounds like it really sucks.”

It occurs to Benton that Ray is distressed by his inability to find a way to better express his sympathy but what, after all, could anyone possibly say? It had been an interminably painful series of events, but it was all now long past and Ray's blunt summation seems to him to be a perfectly suitable elegy for father's passing.

“Thank you, Ray, but I don't need anything else. It's been years now and I found, if nothing else, time does give you perspective.”

Ray inelegantly snorts and slouches back into his seat.

“No offense Ben, but that's bull. Time doesn't give you the big picture, it just smashes things up into tinier and tinier pieces until all you've got is a head full of things that could have gone wrong instead of the one thing that really did.”

It's clear that Ray is no stranger to tragedy himself and is speaking from his own experience but before Benton can inquire further, Ray shakes off his mood and turns their talk into a new direction.

“So, those reasons that don't need exploring right now, are you planning to take off one day and explore them?”

Feeling a bit at sea, Benton attempts to once again adjust to Ray's hairpin curve style of conversation.

“I beg your pardon?”

“It's just that you said that you stayed in Chicago for reasons that don't need exploring at this juncture. That seems like a whole lot of unexplored wilderness right there and you don't strike me as a guy who's afraid of the unknown, so you ever going to go looking for those reasons? Or maybe you don't want to find them?”

“Well..., that is...”

Benton pauses and searches for the proper response. He believes he knows what it is that is being asked but knows that in all good conscious, he cannot offer the certainty of a definite answer.

“I'm afraid that all I can say is that if I ever do find myself ready to go on such an endeavor, I would very much welcome your company.”

Ray smiles, that same incandescent curve that had so entranced Benton two nights ago.

“Good. That's a promise I'll expect you to keep.”

After that, the conversation begins to naturally flow between them.

Benton learns that that Steve McQueen is an actor worthy of respect and admiration, that Ray is a fan of many sports but he has never watched a curling match and that Ray's parents are living in Phoenix in order to be close to their grandchildren,

In return he tells Ray that he has never traveled to a place that does not know snow, that he has never seen a movie in anything but black and white and while it is true that his immediate family is deceased, he has quite a few relatives still in the territories, including one Douglas Fraser who has garnered a minor amount of fame for his ability to train beavers to hum the opening bars of O, Canada.

Ray is marveling at his cousin's accomplishment when Benton receives his first hint that the evening's obstacles are far from over.

The Lee family en masse appears before them, every face wreathed with a smile at the precise moment Benton belatedly recalls that he has neglected to tell Ray of his arrangement with Mrs. Lee on the selection of their appetizers. Ray stiffens in his chair and warily looks around, obviously not wanting a scene and put on guard by the Lee's earlier effusive greeting. Mrs. Lee mummers how lucky Benton and his friend chose this evening to eat with them, patting Benton happily on the arm as Mr. Lee approaches their table. He is preceded by young Tak-Cheung who carefully holds a cloth draped in front of his father. The cloth obscures Mr. Lee's strange burden which seems to require both arms and the occasional sideways step, turning their procession into a sort of dance as Tak-Cheung scrambles to keep pace with his father's erratic motions. Each feint off the straight path to their table is the cause of much hilarity from the Lee family and in horror, Benton realizes what exactly it is that Mr. Lee is struggling with. The realization, of course, comes to late to be of any use as Mr. Lee reaches the table and with the unstoppable momentum of disasters everywhere, uses a showman's flourish to hold his arms high above his head, revealing the writhing _Laticauda Colubrina_ expertly gripped in his outstretched hands.


	2. Drinks and Dinner

Gah! Shit! Snake!”

Ray sputters and flails while the smiling psycho who's holding an obviously pissed-off snake over his head, beams down at Ray like the man in the moon who forgot to take his fucking Thorazine. Then crazy guy with a snake lowers his arms, bringing it down to the table and within kissing distance of Ray, and that's all she wrote because Barbara Kowalski didn't raise a dummy. With one last “Gah!” Ray's out of his seat and standing a good six feet away from the table, backed into a corner and facing down the crowd who are happily standing between him and the only door he knows that will lead him out of this freak show.

Then he realizes that Ben hasn't moved a muscle and doesn't it just figure that the idea of going out extra crispy doesn't rattle the guy but show him a reptile that could probably bite his head off and suddenly he's frozen in place.

Damn it.

Not taking his eyes off of the snake for a minute, Ray scrambles over to Ben and pulls him up from the table. Ben makes noise like he might be trying to communicate something other than “Gee, those are some big honkin' fangs there” but frankly at this moment, Ray's a little distracted with trying to get them both as far away from Cobra Command as possible.

He grabs a chair in one hand and strong arms Ben toward the only 100% guaranteed snake free corner of the room. Once there, he pushes Ben into the space and holds up the chair with all of the attitude he can muster, trying to keep his attention on the room as he furiously whispers to the guy behind him.

“I thought you said these people liked you!”

Ben gives an enormous sigh, like he's carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders and the fact that his dinner with Ray is now a dinner with Ray and a snake is just one more cross he's going to have to bear.

“They do. Ray, it's not what you think.”

The crowd on the wrong side of the chair starts losing their deranged grins and whispering to each other in the language that Ray had assumed to be Chinese but right now he's thinking it might be Martian.

Since the crazy people are taking a moment to talk amongst themselves, Ray takes a moment of his own and halfway turns so that he can better see Ben while he keeps the snake guy in his sights.

“Ben, you do not have clue one on what I am thinking right now, so let me fill you in. I think that we were having ourselves a nice little conversation when your good friends, the Lees, decided to gather round and watch while we get eaten by Satan's own pet boa constrictor. Now, this might be no big shakes for you but this is a lot more impending death than I usually deal with and it's not making me a happy guy. So can you leave off with the sighing for a minute or two and help me find a way out of here that doesn't include us ending up as snake chow?"

Ray ends his little speech on a note higher than he would like, but between the threat of being chomped on by a reject from Skull Island and the distraction of having Ben pressed up against him, the whole situation is shorting out the circuits in his head. All he can think is that he's about to be swallowed by a snake while he has a hard on. Somewhere right now, that stupid psychologist Stella made him see after his dad disowned him is shitting himself in Freudian ecstasy

"No, you don't understand, they're not trying to harm us. The snake is meant for our dinner."

Instead of being reassuring, Ben sounds like the world is ending and he has front row seats, not to mention that the words coming out of his mouth make as much sense as Luis Castillo giving up baseball for square dancing.

"Ben... what...it's..."

Ray sputters to a stop, not knowing where to begin on his list of everything that's wrong with what Ben just said. Before he can start by pointing out that most waiters don't bring live animals to your table and ending with the fact that he's not eating a fucking reptile, the Happy, Happy, Joy, Joy family come to some sort of resolution. Snakey Joe backs off and an old lady who looks a hundred is she's a day steps forward and gestures to their table.

"Please come and sit. The snake is good, yes?"

Ray opens his mouth to loudly explain that no, snake is not good, snake is actually bad, bad, what the hell are they thinking, incredibly bad, when Ben sidelines him with a gentle shove and comes out his corner. Ben starts talking in the same high pitched language that the weird food club is using and after a minute, all ten faces are beaming in Ray's direction again, finding his mortal terror just this side of hilarious. The only person facing him not sporting a grin is Ben.

"Ray, it's safe, I promise. You can put down the chair."

Embarrassed, Ray realizes that he's still holding up his chair like some sort of demented lion tamer and quickly sets it back on the floor. Ben steps forward and lowers his voice, obviously angling for more privacy than the language barrier alone can provide.

"I'm very sorry. I'm afraid this is all just a huge cultural misunderstanding. You see in the Guangzhou Province, a snake is considered a prized delicacy only served to honored guest and as part of the honor, it is important for the host to show that the meal will be made from fresh ingredients."

"Well, good for them, they've got one angry ingredient on their hands there. I hope some other honored guests enjoy it, cause I'm not eating something that supposed to be wriggling on the ground."

"No, I see why that would be a problem."

Ben sounds grave while his whole face is grim and unsmiling. It throws him for a second before he realizes that Ben is expecting him to make up an excuse to cut and run. He wishes that leaving was still an option. Somewhere in the middle of Ben talking about how his father was killed, Ray had gotten sick of all the bullshit he had been spouting in his head and had just accepted that he's stuck to this Mountie guy like glue. Rachael is going to be pissed and who knows where the crash and burn of this relationship is going to leave him, but Ray's done with fooling himself.

"They've got stuff to eat here that's not alive and ready to bite your face off, right?"

Ben leaves off staring over Ray's shoulder to meet his eyes and this time Ben's not hiding under a hat or pretending to be made of wood so there's nothing to disguise his unhappiness and the rising hope that Ray's question has given him.

"Yes, as a matter of fact they have a whole menu that caters primarily to the American palate."

"Well, order me something off that menu then and let's eat."

For a second Benton keeps the hanged-dog look, like Ray's words are failing to compute, and then he's smiling to beat the band. Ray can't help but smile back. Then they're stuck in another one of those stupid loops where all he can do is stand there mooning after Ben like he's some fourteen year old kid with a crush while Ben beams right back at him.

If left to themselves Ray's afraid that they could keep it up for hours which is just flat out embarrassing, but they've got a whole audience watching them and the giggling from the peanut gallery finally brings him back to the situation at hand.

Telling himself that there's no way he's actually blushing, Ray drags his chair back over to the table and takes a seat. Ben takes a few seconds longer to snap out of it, but he finally gets with the program and hurries to his chair. When they're back in position, the Lee family gathers round once again but Ray is relieved that the snake guy is still keeping his distance.

The old lady starts up again with the Chinese and it sounds like she's trying to convince Ben of something. After a whole lot of polite hemming and hawing, Ben turns back to Ray sporting an apologetically flustered look on his face.

"I know you're not eager to try the _Chin She_ , but Mrs. Lee insists I ask you if you would care to join me in a traditional toast."

Ray tries to figure out why asking a guy if he wants a drink is making Ben so hot and bothered, but he's got nothing.

"Yeah, I'll take a drink, but what's the catch?"

Benton drops his eyes to start fussing with his napkin, before taking a deep breath and launching into a rapid fire answer that skips like a scratched record every time Ben glances up and catches sight of Ray.

"Well you see, when serving the _Chin She_ it's customary for the cook to present the _Chin_ to his guests and using a sharp knife, mostly likely a caidao since that is the traditional choice, but Mr. Lee seems to have lately started favoring more American style cutting implements so perhaps he means to use..."

Despite the fact that Grandma Lee doesn't know much English, she apparently can recognize when someone is stalling. Before Ben can segue himself out of what ever trouble he's gotten into, she pokes him hard on the arm and gestures impatiently in Ray's direction.

Ben honest-to-god gulps and then goes for the gusto.

"They slit the snake with a very sharp knife and drain it's gall into glasses filled with grain alcohol at which point we are expected to make a toast and drink as fast as humanly possible."

Ray looks at Ben, blinks and then looks some more, because he has absolutely no clue what to do with what Ben has just said.

Ben finally glances up for more than a second and gives him an agonized look. It would almost be funny if they weren't stuck in the middle of the Temple of Doom and instead of monkey brains, Ray was being asked to drink something that came squeezed out of an anaconda.

The Lees seem to realize that he needs a second to process, because there is a moment of silence while Ray tries to get his brain up and running. Then the old lady rolls her eyes and pokes Ben again, putting some force behind it from the looks of Ben's wince. She resumes the insistent chattering and pokes Ben two more times. Man, being this woman's grandkid must be a living nightmare. He can tell that Ben would rather take a poker through the eye than translate what's she saying, but Ray can also see that Grandma Lee is going to have her way come hell or high water.

Finally, Ben accepts the inevitable and focuses his gaze somewhere left of Ray's head.

"Mrs. Lee asks me to tell you that aside from bringing good luck, snake gall is very beneficial. According to Chinese medicine it strengthens the overall constitution, cures rheumatism and ..."

Ben coughs and then turns bright red.

"... and increases a man's virility."

Grandma Lee rewards Ben with a pat on the shoulder instead of another poke and smiles benevolently down on them both as she adds her two cents.

"It makes you very sexy."

Holy Christ, is Grandma Lee winking at him?

Ray feels the gears in his head groan under the strain as they try to adjust to the situation. Then something just snaps, leaving him recklessly thinking "Well, why not?". He's tried to be the responsible one, the guy who holds things together, ever since Rachael found Dell slumped over his desk, but he's already come to terms with the fact that he's going to take a chance on Ben so why not knock back a little snake gall to celebrate that he's jumped out of the plane without a parachute?

"Sure, sounds great, bring on the snake juice."

Ben is shocked but Grandma Lee just nods her head like she had pegged him for a snake gall drinker as soon as he had walked through the door.

"Ray, are you sure you want to try the _se-daam_? They know that Western tastes are different from their own. No one will think less of you if you decide not to take a drink."

Ray snorts at Ben's attempt to reassure him. He knows that if he turns down this drink, his name will be the Chinese equivalent of "weenie" for the rest of the night. But it doesn't really matter, cause he's ready to do this thing.

"Oh, you bet. And hey, don't bother to order any of the American food. I'll have what you're having."

Ben looks even more shocked if that's possible, but before he can try to talk sense into Ray, Snake Guy bellies back up to the table. The snake hisses and writhes like it has a good idea of what's coming but none of the Lees seem worried about it breaking free so Ray settles back into his chair and decides to just roll with it.

With a twist of her wrist and a flurry of her apron, Grandma Lee produces the biggest damn knife that Ray has ever seen and that's after ten years of working with kids straight out of Cabrini-Green. She hands it over to one of the other Mr. Lees that are crowding around the table and gestures impatiently with her hands until the Mr. Lee with the snake hands over goods. The snake doesn't have a chance. Within seconds Grandma Lee's holding in a such a way that it can barely hiss and the former Snake Guy is given the knife.

A girl who looks barely into her teens hustles to their table with two double shots and a bottle. Both he and Ben get two fingers of something that smells like it's 200 proof and then it's time for the snake to meet it's maker. Guy with a knife does some fancy waving around with the blade, taking exaggerated steps and making lots of noise, faking out the crowd and making Ray wince with the thought of what kind of damage a blade like that can do. Then, as quick as you please, the snake has been sliced up the middle and Grandma Lee is calmly draining snake juice into the two glasses.

He notices that there's a whole lot of blood being mixed in with whatever else Grandma Lee is getting from the snake, but figures that's it's too late in the game to come up squeamish again. He glances at Ben to gauge his reaction to the show and catches himself in the middle of a double take because Ben's not giving one bit of attention to the animal sacrifice that's taking place right in front of them. Instead he's focusing on Ray, studying him so hard he's almost frowning, as if something about Ray doesn't quite add up. Or maybe, Ben's looking at him like everything adds up perfectly and he's almost afraid of what that might mean. Ray's gut tells him to go with door number two and it's a relief to think that he's not the only one who's a little weirded out by how well they seem to click.

Ben's side of the table is too far away for them to play footsie without getting caught and his hands are politely folded in his lap, all of which sucks because right about now Ray would like to find a way to touch him and maybe reassure him a little. Before he can find a way to discreetly shift his chair around the table, Grandma Lee finishes with the snake.

The corpse is turned over to one of the Mrs. Lees, while just a touch more paint thinner is added to the concoction and then it's show time. The family turns their attention back to Ben and Ray, primed by the opening act and now eager for the main event, while Grandma Lee plunks the glasses down in front of them.

Ray likes to think that he's the kind of guy who meets his fate standing, so he gets to his feet before examining the contents of their drinks. Either the snake wasn't as juicy as he looked or he wasn't squeezed him dry because there's only about two inches of wet stuff in the glass. His nose tells him that what he's about to drink is straight up Everclear but the liquid is a cloudy red and right there Ray decides to stop looking and concentrate on just swallowing it as fast as he can. He's putting his plan into action, when Ben clears his throat and catches his attention.

Across the table Ben is standing at attention and holding his glass aloft, a second away from breaking out with some sort of toast. With a shrug, Ray matches his pose and waits for Ben.

"To second chances.”

The words obviously carry some sort of heavy weight for Ben but what the significance might be is a mystery to Ray. He wonders if Ben has a Nick of his own hiding somewhere in his past and how it's going to play out between them if they're both part of the walking wounded.

Then Ben shouts something that sounds like “gone bay”, lifts his glass to his lips and swallows quickly.

The crowd yells "gone bay" right back at Ben so Ray yells it as well and then kicks back all of the snake juice in one gulp. He tastes salt and the burn of the alcohol as it goes down, then it's over and he's holding an empty glass. The Lee family goes wild, so he slams the glass face down on the table and says one more "gone bay" for good measure. Everyone cheers like he's just hit a four base knock at Wrigley Field and a rush of heat runs through him as the drink meets his bloodstream.

Across the table, Ben is still holding his glass and looking pink around the edges, either from the 200 proof or from his toast. He's got his eyes downcast like he's feeling shy and his lips are shiny from the drink and it's all too much for Ray. With a lurch he reaches across the table and grabs Benton by the shirt with both hands, hauling him over until their lips meet, finally getting the kiss he's been wanting all night.

Ray doesn't play it safe, he uses his tongue as ruthlessly as he knows how and Ben doesn't hold back either, matching his fierceness with a passion of his own. It's sheer greatness and Ray gets lost in the heat of the kiss.

If he had his way it never would have ended, but after a moment the strain of their pose gets to be too much and Ray is forced to let go. As soon as he releases Ben's shirt, Ben plops right back down in his seat like the kiss has taken all of the starch right out of him.

Ray's taking a deep breath in to replace all of the oxygen he's lost, when he realizes that somebody has hit the off button on the cheering. He looks around to see the former snake guy looking morally affronted while their little waitress is giggling up a storm. The rest of the crowd is shuffling their feet and adverting their eyes. Ray realizes that he's just shocked the hell out of the entire Lee family. He doesn't even try to hold back the grin that wants to come through because it feels great to get a little of his own back after the snake surprise.

The only member of their audience who looks completely unfazed is Grandma Lee but then Ray expects that it'd take a whole lot more than a little lip action between two men to give her a shock. As Ray meets her eyes, she gives him another wink then claps her hands. She breaks up the crowd, scattering her family back to their duties with sharp sounding words and a pinch or two. She holds back one of the kids until he translates for her that their food is coming right up. Then she bustles back to the kitchen with the kid in tow, who goggles at Ray until they turn a corner and he's out of sight.

Ray turns his gaze back to the table to find Ben red faced and ruffled while he tries to get his breath back. Like everything else, it's a good look on him and Ray ups the wattage of his smirk. He's never been so smug in his entire life and he can't resist stating the obvious.

"Ben, you sure do know how to show a guy a good time."

Ben gapes at him wide eyed with the exact same expression that the kid just had and it's just freaking hilarious. Ray starts to laugh, deep belly guffaws that he can't stop, and it hits him that it's been years since he's felt this good.

 

* * *

 

As Ray loses himself in laughter, Benton struggles to regain his equilibrium for the second time in less than an hour. Never has one man managed to catch him so often off footed and in spite of the strong invigoration of the last few minutes, he can't help but feel troubled at his inability to adjust to the night's surprises.

Ever since Mr. Lee unveiled the _Laticauda Colubrina_ , Benton has been waiting for Ray to offer a ready excuse and leave their dinner quickly as possible. A solitary meal was not the outcome he had wanted for the evening, but in the few seconds between the presentation of the snake and Ray's reaction, he had decided not to let this setback be the final word on their relationship. As Ray had pushed him in the corner and held the chair up to defend them both, Benton had already come to terms with Ray's likely departure and had begun to marshal his arguments for a second date to be presented when he visited Ray's place of employment the next day.

But only a fool tries to catch lightening in a bottle and the more fool he for attempting to predict Ray's behavior. As soon as it was established that the Lees meant no harm, Ray had accepted the situation with an ease that Benton finds completely foreign to his being.

His father had said many times that a man must change his circumstances to suit himself and his grandmother had strove to teach him that that which cannot be altered must be endured, but both remain silent in his struggles to learn the art of compromise. He wonders if Ray will soon tire of his stolid nature or worse yet, if his intransigence will again cost him any hope of happiness.

He is so caught up with dark thoughts that he fails to notice that Ray has recovered from his fit of hilarity and is now watching him from across the table.

“Hey” Ray reaches out and echoes Ben's earlier impulse, covering Ben's hand with his own

“Chill. It's ok about the snake juice, so stop freaking out.”

Ray's simple gesture is revolutionary in it's impact, threatening to overwhelm his uncertain control. But for good or for ill, years of discipline come to his aid, allowing him to make his face impassive.

“Thank you for your reassurance, but let me assure you that I am not, as you say, freaking out.”

Despite his firm negation, Ray looks unconvinced.

“Then, what? You're pissed about the kiss?”

“No! I mean I'm sure that we've throughly scandalized the Lee family for generations to come, but Ray, it must have been obvious that I was a willing participant.”

“Uh huh, you're not freaked out and you're not pissed off, but there's something going on in that head of yours that's not copesetic. Are you going to fill me in?”

How to put into words the calamity that led from his only other attempt to share his life with another person? His dread of history repeating itself? Not that he thinks Ray capable of Victoria's crimes but Benton knows down to the last ounce how much of the weight of her betrayal is his to bear. His unyielding sense of duty, so like his father's, had made him harsh at a time when she had needed mercy and that mistake had poisoned any future they might have shared.

Now, here is a new love sitting before him but in his spirit that same obdurate flaw can still be found. What guarantees can he offer that his stubbornness will not also doom this relationship to fall into acrimony and blame?

Words log jam in his throat, leaving him mute and looking helplessly at Ray, until some undefinable quality in Ray's expression softens.

“OK, you can't talk about it right now, I gotcha. Tell me something else instead.”

Benton accepts the reprieve and struggles to free his mind from it's rut of self doubt and despair.

“Do you have a topic in mind?”

Ray wrinkles his brow as though engaged in prodigious thought before making a show of snapping the fingers of his unengaged hand in sudden enlightenment.

“What about letting me in on the reason you can argue with the old lady in her own language, when coming to Chicago was the first time you've ever left Canada?”

Benton is relieved to have a safe direction in which to travel and he response to Ray's playfulness with a mock frown of of his own.

“Ah, well, I'm afraid that that involves quite a bit of family history.”

“So start talking.”

Ray mimes impatiently with his left hand and Benton realizes that in the course of their conversation, he has reversed their clasp so that it is he who is covering Ray's hand, gently trapping it against the table. Ray seems untroubled by the change so Benton decides to remain untroubled by it as well. The bump of knuckles against his palm reminds him of his grandmother's _nian zhu_ beads, making it a easy matter for him to slip into memory.

His grandparents had both been fervent idealist blessed with a love of books and that love had brought them together their second year at university. Although he had only known them after their dreams had given way to bitter pragmatism, it was not hard for Benton to picture them young and hopeful, curious about the wider world and impatient with the Territories' provincial attitudes.

Almost as soon as they had married, they had accepted a former professor's invitation to accompany him on a trip to China, as he set about establishing an English language library in the Guangzhou province. Their intention was to visit for a space of three or four weeks but five years on found them thoroughly ensconced at the library with no plans to leave. Through the stories they had shared, it was clear to Benton that they had treasured the challenges of living in such a foreign culture and had gained a small amount of fame in certain circles for their research into China's culture and history.

But then the May 20th movement had erupted and the Kuomintang had cried out for vengeance, stoking the people's appetite for violence until all Westerners were regarded with suspicion. Such hatred led to where it always did and bloodied and bruised, his grandparents had watched as their library was torn apart and their work consigned to flames.

“With great luck and determination they escaped the riot with their lives and shortly afterwards they returned to Canada, where my father was born. My grandparents had hoped that he would prove to be their successor in their field of study. However, although he excelled at school, it was clear early on that my father lacked the temperament of a serious scholar. He has always been a man of action and so he went to the Depot as soon as he was eighteen.”

Benton is interrupted as Mrs. Lee, with her nephew and youngest son in attendance, arrive with their meal. Catching her coy look, he quickly releases Ray's hand and tries his best to ignore the edged smile that Ray aims in his direction. It appears that Mrs. Lee has decided to forgo the appetizers in favor of going straight to the main course and consequently, the range of food is enormous. There are more platters than there is space and a second table is quickly drafted into service.

Once the serving trays are arranged to her satisfaction, Mrs. Lee holds out her hands imperiously. Ray looks daunted for a moment, but he surrenders his plate willingly enough and a selection of food is carefully arranged on their respected dishes. Their plates are returned and Mrs. Lee gestures towards their meal, no doubt indicating that they should eat before their food grows cold. This time she graces Ray with a fond pat on his arm and then she is off, while her two assistants scurry behind her. Leaving his food untouched, Ray returns to their previous conversation.

“So what about you? You seem pretty smart. Why didn't you follow in their footsteps?”

“It is true that as soon as I was given to their care, my grandparents began to prepare me for future academic glory.”

With the idea of leading by example, Benton takes a bite from his meal and makes a few appreciative noises as he consumes the fresh _Huang Shou Chi_. He considers smacking his lips for added emphasis but decides that it might be counted as overkill. Despite his restraint, Ray easily sees through his stratagem and rolls his eyes at Benton's theatrics. However, he looks less overwhelmed by the vista of Guangzhou cuisine that surrounds them. Satisfied, Benton continues his answer to Ray's question.

“They taught me all that they had learned in China and when they had exhausted their knowledge, we would spend the evenings scouring the books in our library for new areas of study. I was their great hope for a legacy and for most of my childhood, I was quite happy to be so.”

“But here you are, larger than life and a Mountie just like your Dad.”

“Yes, well you see, at first I was very angry with my father for what I saw as his choice of being a Mountie over being a parent. By the time I had resolved my resentment at his absence, I was a stranger to him and he to me.”

“He never came to visit when you were with you grandparents?”

“Certainly he stopped by whenever he was off duty, which was a rare enough occurrence, but his visits were awkward for us both. Our lives were so different that we had no common language between us. He would lecture on about various subjects that meant little to me at the time and I would to refuse to say anything at all.”

“I've no doubt that this state of affairs would have continued indefinitely if certain events had not changed my perspective. The summer I turned fifteen, we had taken our library to small mining town in the Territories. Just prior to our arrival, a young girl had been found dead, floating in a nearby river. She had been quite obviously murdered and the community was one the verge of tearing itself apart with suspicion. Wild accusations were threatening to lead to violence when my father arrived as the senior officer of the investigation. In one town hall meeting, he had calmed the crowd's hysteria and under his guidance, civil order was immediately restored. When a suspect was finally named and taken into custody, not one person threatened retaliation to the man's family or demanded vigilante action. Through only the force of his character and his belief in the law, he had able to bring about justice and prevent further tragedy from occurring. Watching this, I was able to understand for the first time, that whatever his flaws were as a parent, as a Mountie, my father was a great man.

Afterwards I resolved to no longer stay silent when my father came to visit and while the lectures continued, I made an effort to understand their relevance. Eventually it became clear to me that what I wanted more than anything was to follow in his footsteps and become a man that my father could respect. "

I informed my grandparents of my new ambition and although they must have been disappointed at my choice, they took the news well. Theoretical study quickly took a backseat to more practical matters and my chance at a academic career was never referred to again.”

In the conversational lull that follows, Ray studies him with a cocked head and narrowed eyes as if he is sorting through what Benton has said and discovering unexpected patterns. It makes Benton uneasily aware of exactly how much of himself, he has revealed and he decides that it is time to turn the focus of their conversation back onto Ray.

“And you? If you don't mind me asking, what led you to your current profession?”

Ray looks contemplative as he unwraps his napkin and picks up his utensils.

“I don't know if you can call what I do a profession, but the story of how I hooked up with the Youth Center starts off with me at college. My parents never had a chance at a higher education so it was a big deal with them that their two kids should go. My brother was with the program a hundred percent, and when I was twelve, he went off to Loyola and came back a doctor married to another doctor. Then it was my turn and everybody was expecting me to come back a lawyer with Stella wearing my ring. Instead I nearly flunked out my first year and I figured out that I was into guys."

“That must have been very distressing.”

“Yeah, no kidding. I panicked big time because there was no way my family was going to be good with any of that and I didn't see how I was going to fix it. I was two steps from dropping out of school altogether when I met up with Dell.”

Ray pauses to poke at his food. He visibly screws up his courage and tries the _Hua Kai Fu Gu_. After a tense moment of tightly closed eyes and rapid chewing, a look of unexpected pleasure crosses his face. He tries one more bite and apparently the favorable impression holds. He rapidly finishes the Hua Kai and then becomes occupied by sampling every item on his plate until Benton clears his throat. Shooting him an aggrieved look, Ray takes one more bite and returns to his story.

“Stella had impressed him enough in one of his classes that he had offered her a chance to intern at his firm. Three nights a week I would go downtown to give her a ride home and because the guy was a dyed in the wool workaholic, Dell was always in his office when I got there. Stella worried that he would forget to eat, so we would call in for pizza and hang in the lobby until Dell would come out to see what all the racket was about. After a while, Dell started ordering the pizza himself and even when Stella's internship was over, we'd go over to have dinner with him. Then Stella got busy again with her classes and it was just me sharing take out with this big shot lawyer. But the thing about Dell was that he always took an interest in people. You were never some schlub who was wasting his time and before I knew it, I was laying it all out for him, the whole enchilada. I told him how I was barely getting by in my classes, how I couldn't stop being queer and how I was at the end of my rope and thinking about checking out before the shit hit the fan.”

Ray shifts the serving platters until he can reach the _Chao Ya She Zhang_ , which is a surprise. In Benton's experience, most Westerners did not consider that part of a bird particularly edible.

“Ah, Ray, perhaps you might want to avoid the...”

“No.”

“No?”

"No, Ben, do not tell me what is in this dish. It's fried and you can not go wrong with fried things, so I do not need to know what the meat was before Grandma Lee chopped off it's head and cooked it up. Got me?”

“Understood. Carry on then.”

“So anyway, Dell listened and didn't tell me to suck it up or say anything stupid about lemonade. Even though he was a lawyer, he was more interested in the doing than the talking. Within a week of me unloading all of my problems on him, I was wearing glasses, enrolled in about five different study groups and seeing a campus counselor who made me repeat that it's OK to be gay until I believed it.

Long story short, it all worked and thanks to him I was able to graduate with grades good enough not to shame my family. Which was all aces until my Dad figured out I was queer, but that's a whole 'nother story.

But Dell, deep down he was just a stand up guy, you know? Whenever he saw that somebody was in trouble he would roll up his sleeves and start helping and then he'd inspire everyone around him to join in. So after my graduation, when he mentioned that he was looking for someone to help run this brand new foundation he's started, what could I say but sign me up? And then, when Dell died, what was left of the foundation became the youth center and that's all she wrote.”

Apparently just as weary of discussing the past as Benton, Ray turns again to his meal. Benton follows suit and the companionable silence that descends is only occasionally broken by Ray's insistence that Benton try a particular dish or by Benton's suggestion on how best to avoid the small bones inherent in the _Chin She_.

They make a decent inroad into most of the platters and finish the soup before Benton grows restive and recalls his earlier discussion of Ray with his partner. Inspired by the idea of volunteering his services, Benton picks up the thread of their conversation once more.

“I believe that I read in last night's report that you were looking for a young man by the name of Dwayne Johnson who had run away from his home. Have you been able to locate him?”

Ray remains focused on his meal as he waves his hand dismissively in the air.

“Nah, it turned out to be no big. The kid showed up at his mom's house this morning, no worse for wear.”

Benton stiffens in his chair as unwelcomed insight coils through him, leaving him as miserable as Adam after the first bite, but unable to refuse the wisdom.

The signs are all there, the body language, the averted eyes, the stress inflections, almost invisible to anyone without his training but painfully obvious to Benton. Once again, his father's gifts are a double edged blade and no matter how much he desires ignorance, he cannot disavow the knowledge.

Ray is lying.


	3. His Place

Ray looks up from what he swears are fricasseed tentacles, surprised, because the space between them has gone hinky again. Ben's looking tense and just like before, Ray has no idea what has set him off.

Ray wonders if it's the idea of running away that has Ben sunk back down into his blue mood. From what he's said, it sounded like his childhood was spent trying one way or another to live up to his family's high expectations. That's a lot of pressure to put on a kid and even if his grandparents had given him some slack, Ben doesn't seem the type who would accept it. It's kind of twisted, but his story reminds Ray of Stella and how she kills herself trying to be the best at everything on the off chance that she might finally get her father's attention. It hasn't worked so far and Ben's Dad seems to have been the same kind of uncaring asshole.

Then Ben shakes it off and goes back to smiling at Ray like there's pie in the sky, which is a relief because Ray has had his fill of drama for the evening.

“Well, I'm glad that the incident ended happily for all those involved. Have you tried the Huang Shou Chi yet?

Ray says no as a matter of fact he hasn't and adds the Hoo Ang whatever to his plate. Their vibe is back like there was never a moment of weirdness and before long he's filled to the gills with stuff that used to have gills of it's own. He can't eat another bite and Ben seems to be in a similar state. Finally, the Lees have mercy on them and their waitress shows up, carefully balancing a stack of to-go boxes. While their food is being boxed, Ben has a low voiced but heated discussion with Grandma Lee. From her indignation and his look of determined politeness, Ray's guessing that Ben's trying to ask for a bill and not getting very far. Grandma Lee wins the battle and walks away in a huff while Benton slowly puts his wallet back in his pocket.

The waitress, who's name is something like Yee-Yin, finishes up and presents them with four bags of the Lee's finest to take home with them. In the hustle of getting up from the table with all their leftovers, Ray catches sight of a few twenties and tens poking out from under Ben's napkin and has to turn his laugh into a cough before he gives the game away. In the midst of grabbing his hat from an empty chair, Ben figures out quick that Ray's caught him defying Grandma Lee. He pulls a face that manages to look sheepish and stubborn at the same time, which sets Ray off into a full blown coughing fit.

It takes half a glass of water to get himself back under control but once he's breathing again without threatening to hack up a lung, he and Ben make a break for the door. Of course they only travel about ten feet before Yee-Yin sounds the alarm and the whole family assembles for what Ray hopes is the last time. He resigns himself to running the Lee family gauntlet and starts shaking hands while Ben follows up behind him, making polite talk in Chinese. All of the meaningless smiling and nodding makes Ray twitchy and he's flinching at every sudden movement, because if these people think that saying “let's eat” with a live snake is normal, who knows how they say good-bye?

But even though he's bracing for the other shoe to drop while he's stuck in the middle of the Lee's relentless good cheer, he's still happy to see that no one's treating Ben any different. Whatever their damage was at seeing Ben being kissed by another guy, they've gotten over it or at least they're covering it up enough that they're not spoiling the evening, which is good enough in Ray's book.

Ray reaches the end of the line without having to do anything along the lines of biting the head off a chicken and after one last smile, shake and nod, they're in the lobby, practically home free. But there's no light at the end of this tunnel yet, because standing between them and the door is Grandma Lee, sporting a wide smile and what he swears is an evil gleam in her eye.

Ben crowds up behind him as Grandma Lee blocks their path and takes a moment to poke Ray in the ribs.

“Hey!”

She starts up with the Chinese and Ben leans forward a bit over Ray's shoulder to catch what she's saying. It's an act that brings Ben's front up close and personal to Ray's back, so he loses a moment while he struggles against having an inappropriate reaction in front of a woman old enough to have been backseat driving Moses on the Ark.

When he starts tracking again, Ben's breath is warm against his ear and he realizes that Ben is in the middle of translating Grandma Lee's rant into English.

“... and skinny with funny hair. But you have a good appetite, so you are welcomed to come back any time.”

“Wait a minute, what did she say about my hair?”

Before Ben can repeat himself, Grandma Lee interrupts to chatter up storm again, this time looking pointedly at Ben. Whatever she's saying it must be personal since Ben is tensing up something fierce and his reply has that stutter to it just like when he was telling Ray about the sexy properties of snake gall.

Then Grandma Lee bows and with a final wink, steps out of their way, clearing the path to the exit. Ray doesn't waste his chance at a clean getaway. He reaches back to grab Ben's arm and pulls him through the door even as Ben gives a final wave.

Once out the street, Ray halts their progress and lets Ben go in the interest of turning around and talking face to face.

So, you going translate the rest of what she said or did she just spend five minutes making more cracks about my sense of style?

Ben studies the pavement down at his feet and shifts his bags into one hand, getting a better grip on his hat.

“In essence, she said that she had been worried because she thought I was lonely and she was happy that I had found someone to eat with.”

“Oh.”

There was a lot he could say to that but he doesn't really know where to start. Not that Ben gives him much of a chance to think of a comeback. Looking up, Ben veers the conversation back into the shallow end of the pool.

“And actually, I rather like your hair. It brings to mind the cotton grass which covers the tundras every spring in the territories.”

Since it's been a long night, Ray goes with the change in mood as they start to drift down the street

“Greatness, the top of my head looks like a pasture to you.”

“Not at all, Ray. A tundra is a treeless plain in Arctic regions where the subsoil is permanently frozen. It really has very little in common with a pasture.”

“Oh, thanks, Ben. That makes a huge difference.”

Ben smiles at his show of indignation, which is what he was aiming for, so Ray drops the subject.

They pass by the corner where he and Ben had collided and he's struck by how fast he's fallen. It's Twilight Zone territory to think that just three and a half hours ago Ray had planned to bail as soon as the dinner was over and never see Ben again. Now it's the easiest thing in the world to turn and offer him a ride back to his place.

Ben doesn't seem to catch the significance of where they're standing, but by this time, he's put the hat back on so that the only thing Ray can really see is the gleam of his teeth. He seems happy enough with the plan when Ray points them toward his car.

There's not a lot of talking as they start up the street, and for Ray's part he's content to just walk beside Ben and take in the night. Personal space between them is almost nil so he swings his bags back and forth with one hand, letting the momentum bring them close enough brush shoulders and strike sparks.

It takes them a solid fifteen minutes of walking to reach his parking spot and then there's the Goat gleaming under the streetlights like shiny panther hunkered down in the middle of a herd of timid, compact cars. Ray slows down a few steps to admire the new finish he's just put on and Ben slows down right beside him, his attention on Ray and not the car. Ray points at his baby and Ben turns to look, but it's obvious that Ben doesn't know enough about cars to be impressed by a 1967 Pontiac Grand-Am in mint condition. Whatever. If it doesn't run hooked up to a team of huskies, it probably all looks alike to him anyway.

He doesn't bother to educate Ben on his choice of ride, because it's not like he was counting on the Goat to help him get laid tonight. Besides, now is not the time to get into how his father leaving the car behind had been a clear sign to Ray that he'd given up on ever trying to fix their relationship.

Once they're buckled in, Ben gives directions that puts him smack in the middle of the West Side, which comes up a bit queer to Ray. He'd thought a country boy like Ben would be shacking up in the suburbs where his wolf would have a back yard to run around in. An apartment on East Racine doesn't fit the picture he has of Ben and he wonders it's the result of cluelessness with the big city or if there is some sort of grand gesture being made. He thinks about asking, but Ben is biting his lip and looking fixedly out the window. All at once it hits home that soon they're going to be alone together behind a closed door and Ray shelves the question in favor of getting them to Ben's pronto.

The building on Racine turns out not to be a total wreck despite it's location. It's a little run down sure, but the winos hanging out front are considerate enough to keep to one side of the steps and except for the sign declaring the elevator out of order, the lobby is in decent shape. Since the lift is busted, it's a good five flight treck up to Ben's apartment, and at any other time, he'd be bitching, but at the moment, Ray's too busy staring at Ben's ass ahead of him on the stairs to mind the exercise.

They reach the right floor a few seconds before Ray's need to breathe overcomes his libido and he tries to play it cool as Ben holds the door open, revealing a long, grungy hall. Ben starts walking and Ray follows, struggling to catch his breath as he sneaks a few glances Ben's way. Except for apologizing about the climb, he's been dead quiet for the last ten minutes and Ray's not sure if nerves or second thoughts are to blame.

Ben comes to a halt in front of door number six and reaches for the brim of his hat because that's apparently where Mouties keep their keys. Ray grabs his hand before it can connect the key to the lock. He's got his mouth open to start in on a nice little speech about how it's ok if Ben's having doubts about taking this thing to the next level, when Ben turns and does a little grabbing of his own. Every thing spins for a moment and when the world starts making sense again, Ray finds himself against the wall, with Ben's hands on either side of his head. Ben keeps up the silence, leaning forward until they're practically sharing body heat and from the white hot look of need on his face, Ray figures out pretty quickly that's it's lust and not second thoughts that's caught his tongue.

Ray turns his head just to get a quick breather from all that intesity shooting his way, only to come eyeball to eyeball with some creepy neighbor of Ben's that's standing behind a nearby door and peering at them through a chainlocked sliver of space.

“What the hell?”

Ray pushes Ben off because he's not in the business of giving out free peepshows but before matters can escalate into Ray pounding in some heads, Ben steps in front of him.

“Good evening, Mr. Mustafa.”

Ben's greeting is as polite as you please but all it gets him is the door slammed in his face and a second later doors are slamming shut all up and down the hall.

Ben makes some apologetic noises and turns back to opening the door while Ray has a sudden revelation. The dive in the lake, the wolf and the snake gall should have tipped him off way before now, but these last few days, Ray's been dealing with a full plate and hasn't had a lot of time to put two and two together. But now, there's no getting around the fact that Ben lives his life with his freak magnet cranked up to eleven and at this point he's so used to it, he doesn't even notice when things take a sharp right turn into the bizarre. Hanging with Ben is going to mean one long acid trip into the unexpected and Ray just hopes he reaches the end of this ride with all of limbs still attached to his body and not gibbering like some crazy down on Michigan avenue.

Oblivious to Ray's epiphany, Ben finally gets the door open and ushers Ray inside the apartment.

It's a studio so there's just one big room and a bathroom, which is barely enough space for one person but Ben's peering in all the corners like he's expecting someone to jump out and say boo.

“You've got a roommate?”

“Ah, no. No, of course not. There's no one here but us.”

Ben's usually a quiet speaker, but his answer to Ray is loud with a fake cheerfulness that seems intended to tip off any unwanted parties to clear out while they have a chance.

Ray decides that he does not want to know, which is just as well because in the next second he's got his hands full dealing with a wolf that's all kinds of pleased to see him.

“Well, no one but us and Diefenbaker.”

Ray has a second to brace himself before he's hit with ninety pounds of canine, so this time around he doesn't end up on his ass but he kneels down anyway to give Dief a proper greeting.

He's always liked dogs and Ben may claim that this guy's a wolf, but you couldn't put it past Ray with the way that he's acting. In the middle of scratching Dief's ears and calling him a good boy, it occurs to Ray that now that he's living at Dell's place, he's got more than enough space and backyard to keep a dog happy. It might be nice to have one running around all the empty rooms and chasing away the memories.

Ray shelves the idea for later consideration and while Ben continues his weird investigation into all of the nooks and crannies, takes a moment to look around.

The best thing he can say about the place is that it's clean and neat. Ben favors functional over pretty, there's a bare minimum of furniture scattered about the place and the only homey touch is a couple of photographs displayed on an old trunk beside his bed.

Ray focuses on the bed, which is barely bigger than a twin, but it's enough to remind him of that moment in the hall and all of the other moments they've had in the last few days.

Dief can tell that he's no longer paying him any mind and shuffles off with a disgruntled huff as Ray rises to his feet.

Ben finishes up whatever he's doing and joins Ray in the middle of the room. For a moment, Ben just stands there and Ray thinks it's going to be up to him to to start something because let's face it, who's been macking on who these last few days?

Then Ben smiles, looking happy, and steps right up into Ray's personal space.

“I am very glad you are here.”

Ray strangles out something that supposed to mean “yeah, likewise” and Ben moves in for the kill. Lips touch his and the kiss starts off gentle and sweet and stays there. At first, Ray's fine with necking like they're a couple of kids and then he's over it and ready for more, but Ben resists. In the small part of Ray's brain that's still tracking, he's shocked by Ben's stonewalling and tries again but, Jesus, he's become immovable, both hands firm on Rays jaw, keeping the kiss light when what Ray craves is deep and dirty. Ben's denying him and he wants it so bad he's shaking with it and fuck, why won't Ben just give it to him?

Ray hears the noises he's making and it pisses him off that anyone can make him sound that needy. The anger gives him strength to shove until they've crossed the room and Ben's back hits the wall. Ray uses the leverage to push them tightly together, his hands savagely twisting the material of Ben's shirt, willing to climb inside Ben's skin if that what's it takes to have Ben open his mouth and let him in.

Ben's hands shift on his jaw, pushing back Ray's head to a deeper angle and in a blink the kiss transforms from something that's Disney approved into the hottest, nastiest kiss of his entire life.

Ben's capitulation is dizzying and the abrupt intimacy causes desire to overrun Ray in one hot wave until he's seconds from losing it and coming in his pants. He's got absolutely no control here and his helplessness is start to freak him out. Just who the hell is Benton Fraser and how can he get inside his head like this?

“Ok, wait, wait.”

Ray lets go of Ben and pushes off, backing away a few steps while Ben stays slumped against the wall, breathing hard. He's visibly struggling to process what just happened and Ray's suspicion that Ben was using the kiss to screw with his head dies a quick death. This thing between them is filled with TNT just waiting to go off and while Ray usually in favor of a good fuck, he's suddenly stupidly panicked at the thought of going past second base.

“Look, I don't want to be a cocktease here, but I haven't done this in a while. This is a big deal for me, so I need us to slow down, ok? Maybe we can get to know each other a little more before we get horizontal?”

Because it's obvious that Ben is all systems go and Ray's the one with his foot on the brake, he's expecting some sort of blow up, but Ben starts nodding his head like a champion, eyes wide and solemn, like he's in complete agreement with Ray's decision not to put out.

“Certainly, yes ...that's umm certainly. But can we... that is too say...Could we still...”

It takes a moment for Ray to figure out what Ben is getting at with all of the nodding, stuttering and nervous hand gestures and then Ray takes pity on the guy because it's not like he doesn't want it too.

“What, can we make out some more? Oh, you bet.”

Ray eyes the couch but decides that sitting would lead to more trouble than he could handle, so he reels Ben back into his arms and pushes him against the wall, only to have Ben start up where they left off. This time Ben goes from zero to sixty in an instant with his kiss and Ray rides out the high octane mix of fear and lust that it inspires, holding Ben tight as he tries to give as good as he gets.


End file.
